


What We Have Lost

by silvertrails



Series: First Age Arc [12]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Amrod and Amras come to see Glorfindel and Ecthelion in Fingolfin's camp.





	What We Have Lost

**What we have lost  
** By CC  
February, 2014 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. In CC-verse, Glorfindel is the son of Findis, the first daughter of Finwë and Indis. Laurëfindil is my Quenya name for Glorfindel. Ehtelë is my Quenya name for Ecthelion.

* * *

Laurëfindil left the bed, careful not to wake Ehtelë. They didn’t often share a tent, but sometimes when Ehtelë was too haunted by their loss to be able to sleep without nightmares, Laurëfindil would come and stay with him. They were not lovers, but they were slowly moving in that direction. Without Arakáno, they had only each other to hold to. 

_I wonder if Uncle Nolofinwë knew about Arakáno and Ehtelë._

Arakáno had died as soon as they set foot on Middle-earth, and Ehtelë would be dead too if Laurëfindil had not stopped the deadly blow coming on him. He had been powerless to save Arakáno, and so his cousin had paid with his life for their victory against the Orcs. 

Are you in Mandos, cousin? Have you found peace? We miss you. Ehtelë needs you, and---

“Cousin? Are you there, Laurëfindil?”

Laurëfindil started when he recognized the voice outside the tent. How had Pityo managed to enter their encampment? Had the guards allowed them to pass? Laurëfindil grabbed his sword and came out of the tent. 

Pityo raised his hands, to show that he had no weapon. Telvo was there too, but he said no word. He looked different, somehow. They both looked different, no longer defiant and angry at the imagined insults against their father. 

Laurëfindil let his sword hand fall to the side. “Why have you come?”

“We wanted to apologize,” Pityo said, “for leaving you behind, for all that happened before we left Tirion, for Alqualondë…”

“It was our decision to find in Alqualondë,” Laurëfindil said. “We thought the Teleri had attacked you.” 

He had arrived late to the battle, and he hadn’t actually killed anyone. It had been over too soon, but Arakáno and Ehtelë had been there already, their hands red with the blood of their kin. 

“We are sorry, nevertheless.”

“We heard about Arakáno,” Telvo said. “We wanted to come at once, but things have not been easy. Our brothers don’t know that we are here. We never wanted him or anyone else to die, cousin.”

“Then what did you expect when you burned the ships? That we returned home? Finwë was my grandfather too!”

Telvo started at the mention of the burning, and only then did Laurëfindil notice that his hair was short, and his hands were burnt. So were Pityo’s. What had happened to them? 

“We thought that you would never risk the crossing,” Pityo said. “We should have known that you would. You have every reason to be angry at us, Laurëfindil. So many have died because of what we did, but understand that we had no choice but to follow Father’s orders.”

“Your father was insane.”

Pityo’s stiffened, and Laurëfindil sighed inwardly. Fëanáro was dead, and that Maitimo was Morgoth’s prisoner, and no anger of his justified his heartlessness. 

“Pityo… Telvo… What we have lost…”

“We know,” Telvo said, “but we wanted you to know that we will always remember our friendship.”

Laurëfindil nodded.

“We buried Arakáno near the battle place.” It was Ehtelë. “We cannot go back, and his resting place might have been defiled by Morgoth’s creatures already.”

“We will return one day,” Pityo said, “and build a proper tomb for him.”

It only made Laurëfindil angrier. 

“What about Elenwë?” he asked, “and the others who died in the ice?”

“Do you know that Father’s body simply burnt up after he died?” Telvo said. There was something disturbing in his eyes, and again Laurëfindil felt sorry for unleashing his temper. 

“I am sorry, cousins. About Maitimo---”

“He must be dead by now,” Pityo said. “Come with me, Telvo. We said what we came to say. It is time we leave. Findaráto’s guards are waiting for us.”

So it had been Findaráto who had allowed then into the encampment. Only he could be so generous. Laurëfindil sighed and looked at Ehtelë, then at his cousins.

“Wait, Ambarussa.”

They both stopped walking and looked at him.

“I am sorry about your father, and about Maitimo. I wish things were different.”

Pityo nodded. Telvo simply looked away. 

“What is broken cannot be repaired,” Laurëfindil said, “but maybe we can build something new. We are family, we were friends.”

It might never be possible, and Laurëfindil knew it, but he wanted it to be, and he saw the same hope in his cousins’ eyes, in Ehtelë’s eyes. Ambarussa turned around and left, and Laurëfindil saw Findaráto and his guards waiting a few tents away. He nodded in silent thanks, and then placed an arm around Ehtelë’s shoulders. 

“Let us go back to be, Laurëfindil.” 

There was pain in Ehtelë’s eyes, but there was also affection and concern. Laurëfindil leaned closer and kissed Ehtelë, and together they entered the tent. They were not in love with each other, but there was love between them. Arakáno was dead, and all they could do now was to take care of each other and stay together.


End file.
